


Cold Comfort

by ktlsyrtis



Category: Holby City
Genre: Angst, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 15:26:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9189299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ktlsyrtis/pseuds/ktlsyrtis
Summary: Bernie takes Serena home after the events of "I Do, I Do, I Do."





	

**Author's Note:**

> After the heartbreak of that episode, my brain wouldn't let me do anything else until I got this out. This is not a happy fix-it fic, so be warned.

Bernie put the kettle on the stove, lighting the burner before turning to pull two mugs from the cabinet. A tea bag in each and... Out of immediate tasks she slumped into one of the chairs around the solid oak kitchen table, head in her hands. She had seen terrible things during her time in the Army. Death, trauma, terror. Countless awful, wrenching moments that continued to haunt her in the night.

She thought today might have been worse than them all.

Her hands dropped to rest on the surface of the table, palms up. Slowly clenching and unclenching. She could still see Jason – smart, wonderful, _innocent_ Jason – on the operating table. Body broken. _So much blood._

In the midst of the surgery Bernie had found herself doing something she hadn't done in years. She prayed. Prayed to any God that would hear her to give her the strength, the skill to save Jason's life. _Anything_ , she had promised. _You can take anything except him._

She hadn't known that even gods could be _this_ cruel.

She glanced upward, as if she could see through the floor to the bedroom where she had left Serena. It had taken Bernie hours to convince her to come home. Just for a shower and a few hours of sleep. Jason was stable, resting, and Elinor...

Bernie's hands clenched into white-knuckled fists, a sob welling in her throat.

 _No_. She straightened, dashing the moisture from her eyes, forcing herself to drop her shoulders and take a deep, shaky breath. There was no time for that now. She needed to be strong for Serena. Her weakness could wait.

The whistle of the kettle made her jump and she quickly moved to finish the tea. Mugs in hand, she turned to the stairs. Stopped. Took a deep breath. Another, before walking up to the bedroom.

The door was open slightly, warm light spilling into the dark hallway. She nudged it open further with her foot, trying to move slowly and quietly. Her heart clenched in her chest as she crossed the room.

Serena sat on the edge of the bed, her hair messy and wet from the shower, dressed in the flannel pajamas Bernie had left out for her. They made her look small, vulnerable. She was staring blankly at her hands in her lap, the devastating bleakness in her face like a knife in Bernie's stomach.

She put the tea on the antique dressing table and moved to kneel in front of Serena. Wrapping Serena's hands in both of her own as she looked up into her face. Even after the shower her hands were cold as ice.

“Serena?” she whispered softly. Once. Twice. Serena blinked slowly, eyes finally focusing on Bernie's face.

“Bernie...” Her voice was husky, as if she hadn't spoken in years.

Bernie dropped a light kiss on her fingertips. “I'm here, darling.”

Serena blinked as if waking, suddenly looking around the room in confusion. “I shouldn't be here,” she whispered. Her voice strengthened, “I should be at the hospital. I should be with Eli...” She tensed, trying to stand. Bernie rose quickly, moving to sit beside her. Wrapped an arm tightly around her shoulders.

“Serena. Serena, please. You need to rest.”

Serena wrenched out of Bernie's grasp, eyes blazing with pain and fury. “Rest?! How can I rest, when my Eli...my, my baby...” As fast as it had arrived the fury drained from Serena, her face collapsing. Blindly she reached out to grasp Bernie's arms, fingers digging painfully into her skin. “Oh god. My baby...”

Bernie wrapped her arms around Serena as she began to sob. Great, heaving, shuddering sobs. Her tears soaked the front of Bernie's shirt, hands clenched in the soft fabric. Feeling utterly useless, Bernie held her tight as her emotions raged. Hands splayed across Serena's back she whispered comforting nonsense into her damp hair.

Inside she was furious. Furious that whatever powers existed in the universe had done this to Serena. The most amazing woman she had ever known. A woman who had dedicated her life to giving and caring for others. Who loved freely and bravely. She changed the lives of everyone she touched, Bernie's most of all, and _this_ was how the universe repaid her?

Eventually Serena's sobs slowed to soft hiccoughs. Bernie brushed a kiss against her forehead and untangled herself from Serena's arms, coaxing her up the bed and under the covers.

“Elinor...” Serena protested softly as Bernie pulled the covers up around her.

“We'll go back soon. I just need you to sleep for me, love. Please...”

Serena nodded, exhausted, red-rimmed eyes already sliding shut. Bernie went around the room, turning out the lights and pulling the curtains as quickly as possible, before returning to slide into bed. Even half asleep, Serena reached for her, tucking herself beneath Bernie's chin. Tears still hitched her breath, eventually smoothing out into an uneasy sleep.

Bernie lay in the darkness, holding her close. She barely noticed the tears that slide silently down her face, soaking into the pillow. She could feel it now, here in the dark. Allow herself to feel the pain, the anger, the fear. In the morning she would be strong for Serena. Could be, _would_ be, whatever she needed. But for now, all she could do was hold her lover and weep.


End file.
